


The Exile

by drakhus67820



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Battle, Blood and Violence, Dark Jon Snow, Exile, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jonerys AU Fest, Love, Mutilation, Not Dothraki friendly, Oral Sex, Queen Elia Martell, Queen Lyanna Stark, Reunion, Rhaegar Lives, aerys is death, eddard stark is not lord of winterfell, happy end, jon in essos, not martell friendly, robert is alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-12-26 12:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18282200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakhus67820/pseuds/drakhus67820
Summary: For falling in love with Princess Daenerys, the youngest son of King Rhaegar is sent into exile in Essos.Joining a Mercenary company, the prince rogue is sending defending a city attacked by dothraki.In the middle of the battle, his thoughts drift over Westeros and the latest news he received.





	1. The Rogue Prince 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeeMaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeeMaw/gifts), [FieryPen37](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FieryPen37/gifts), [WriterWolfe618](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWolfe618/gifts), [morrigan01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrigan01/gifts).



> Thanks to Scarlett for the translation and the correction, <3  
> Thank to meemaw for his wise opinion, without her...i will probably never publish this!  
> Thank to writerwolfe618 and cbronwjc for the inspiration, the story come from a discution about Jon In Essos plot on the Jonerys Discord.

 

The Rogue Prince.

 

She smelled of lavender and lemon, a delicious smell in which Jae could not help but dive. His head nestled against her delicate neck, he took a deep breath again. A sweet laugh answered him as a hand got lost in his hair.

 

Under his body he could feel each of her delightful curves, from her soft skin to the fleece of white gold nestled between her thighs where a welcoming humidity was found. The tips of her pink nipples were hard and several red marks provided proof of their activities a little earlier.

 

"I wish we could stay this way for all eternity," sighed Princess Daenerys, putting her arms around his lover's shoulders.

 

"And me, my love," said Jaehaerys in a muffled voice as he kissed the neck of his beloved.

 

“Jae,” she protested weakly, a protest that turned into a groan as Jae s mouth went to her nipples.

 

“Old Gods and New, I love you so much, Dany.”

 

“I love you too, Jae, more than anything.”

 

Daenerys cupped Jae's cheek and approached him. Their kiss carried the second son of the King to paradise. He put his hand on her lap and with a great gentleness he returned to exploring her curves and tasting her sweetness. His hand slipped between her thighs, the young woman gave a groan of pleasure as her hand grabbed his member and started stroking back and forth. It was his turn to moan with pleasure.

 

The tender memory stopped there. His wandering mind was forced to return to the dark reality. The dry air and the smell of blood and fire surrounded him like a shroud. Jae stared at his opponent. Chasing the beautiful amethyst eyes of his love from his spirit. He took a step forward and went on the attack.

 

Jaehaerys groaned under the effort as he pushed back the Dothraki screamer with his shield. Surprised, the savage stumbled back against the wooden railing that crackled without breaking. Unfortunately for him, the short moment of surprise turned out to be the last one as Jae thrust the tip of his sword into his chest. His enemy remained a moment bewildered, an expression that changed into agony when a twist of the wrist, Jon turned the blade in her belly, letting out a scarlet spray.

 

Short of breath because of the short but intense duel, the young Commander took the time to observe the situation. Dustown was in the midst of Disputed Land, a community of merchants and craftsmen who lived as best they could in what was one of the most unstable regions in the world. The little town had been stormed early in the morning, shortly before the guard was raised. The Dothraki howlers had climbed the ramparts, slaughtered the exhausted sentinels and opened the harrow, leaving the rest of the horde spilling into the city like grasshoppers.

 

As the Commander of the mercenary garrison, Jae had managed to have his soldiers contain most of the men in the market area at the entrance to the city. Now, after a morning of fierce fighting, the defenders were gradually fended off the looters. Alas, their enemies were ferocious and every meter gained was bloody.

 

_ Savages. Fools, confusing bravery with suicide _ , the rogue prince thought.

 

Straddling the dead Dothraki he had killed, Jaehaerys looked at Dustown with a stern expression. Chaos was the best description the young man could find. The houses whitened by the sun were in the half of the city ravaged by the fire that had broken out, the blue sky was filled with thick black smoke. The midday sun and the raging fire made the heat stifling. The fights were moved from the central avenue and the two squares to drown in the blood the narrow streets adjoining. Deprived of their horses, the ferocious Dothraki were cut to pieces without retreating, frustrating endlessly Jae. A frustration that had only increased with the failure of his mission.

 

The exile had wanted to join the gates of the city, wanting to lock the Dothraki between the walls and depriving them of the reinforcements of their khalasar. Unfortunately, besides being occupied by the Dothraki, the stone wall was in very bad conditions. The makeshift repairs made by Jae and his predecessors had caught fire. The last means of access was near the gates, but to reach them they would have to cross the neighborhood of the door, currently full of enemies.

 

“Commander!” a voice shouted behind him. “Commander!”

 

A group of soldiers led by a sergeant approached him, their armor was filthy and their blades were still oozing the blood of their victims. They were far from the proud look of the Westerosi knights.

 

"Come on, Jae! Father made us some armor." The memory floated in the Prince's mind, inconvenient but pleasant. Oh, and what armor it was, full, black with dragon carvings, on the thick breastplate the three-headed dragon of their family made of precious stone. Today the armor had to take dust in the armory of the Red Keep. Instead he now wore a blood-soaked leather armor with a mesh coat underneath.

 

The men in front of him wore the same equipment, rigid leather armor or brigandines, more or less decorated spaulders. Iron most often, sometimes steel if its carrier was sufficiently rich. Plate armor as for it was rare, very rare in Essos.

 

Jaehaerys watched the sergeant approach him. The man was wider than tall, sturdy and all-muscle. In his hands he held a falchion, dripping blood, and a round shield reinforced with iron. On his head he wore a bumpy kettle hat. His brigandine was torn in several places, leaving him to see the fine metal plate underneath.

 

His face was a horror to see, a nose broken more times than one could count, his whole left side was covered with scars that a surgeon had badly stitched. The salt and pepper beard was sprayed with blood. His blue eyes shone with joy. This man was born for war. The sergeant was called Noros, affectionately nicknamed by the troop the Thirsty, but not for his descent into the taverns. He was a boorish, bloodthirsty, but reliable man, a sergeant who had a heavy hand when he had to, without abusing his power over men of rank.

 

The faces of the men beside Noros were dark and bitter, but to Jae’s relief a dark resolution shone in their eyes.

“Sergeant Noros, soldiers,” Jae nodded.

"Captain Asher is sending us reinforcements, so what are your orders, Commander?" Sergeant Noros asked impatiently.

 

Before Jae could answer, the screams grew louder, and when he turned his head he saw a group of Dothraki run in their direction with their arakhs in their hands.

 

“In formation, shield!” Jae shouted.

 

Immediately, the soldiers surrounded him, forming a wall of shields taking all the width of the walkway.

 

The shock was brutal, the Dothraki trying to break their training by brute force. The shock pulled back their line although he held good. The raiders screamed and swore in their tongue, hitting or throwing themselves against the shields with ruthless fury.

 

In the back of the mercenaries’ formation, the soldiers who had not taken position tried to hold them as much as they could. But the stone slabs, bloodied by the preceding fight, were slippery under their boots. Finally, one of the men stumbled on a corpse, taking with him the men beside him in his fall. The line was broken. The Dothraki seized the opportunity as their formation broke, the savages shouting with joy.

 

Carried away by the man next to him, Jon found himself on the ground, but luckily he managed to keep his sword in hand. He just had the time to get up to parry a sudden blow that would have killed him. With a deft movement of his arakh, the Dothraki managed to break Jaehaerys’'s guard. The second blow did not come, however, as the sergeant took advantage of the opportunity to plant his falchion in the rider's back.

 

The exile Westerosi did not have time to thank the veteran, he was barely back on his feet when two Dothraki attacked him. Jaehaerys kneeled abruptly while raising his bulwarks over his head. Holding back tears of pain as his knee pads banged his leg, he buried his sword under the belt of the copper-skinned warrior, who shrieked in pain. In a second movement his shield-hand lowered, the sharp point crashing into the foot of the second rider. Surprisingly, he knelt down trying to remove the tip of the shield from his foot. His hands slid and opened on the sharp edges of the Prince's kite-shaped shield. Leaving the sword in the body of the first, the prince crushed his metal-covered fistl in the crotch of his victim, then, as he collapsed, Jae hit his face. Once, twice and a third time, leaving only a bloody ruin where his features had been.

 

Despite the pain on his knee, Jaehaerys got up, pulling his sword from the body of the young swarthy warrior. The other Dothraki stood in the meanwhile, his face turned into a pulp, his eyes shining with hatred and rage. Jae did not give him time to attack him again, however, with a quick swing of his sword he opened the barbarian's throat, his blood spurting, staining him.

 

Jae gave a furious scream as he went to meet another Dothraki, in a movement from the bottom to the top of his shield he pushed aside the arakh. In the process, Jae took a horizontal blow. The thread of his sword, so carefully sharpened, cut the rough leather without difficulty and disemboweled the tender flesh of the belly. The howler fell to his knees, in a pathetic attempt he tried to hold his pouring gut. Without mercy, Jae hit the man with his shield, sending the animal on the ground as he took his last breath.

 

Around him, he could see that all the Dothraki had been killed. Of the eleven men who had joined him, eight had survived, although three were seriously injured. Sergeant Noros had a wild smile, looking almost happy.

 

"A handsome massacre, sir," the sergeant shouted, slapping Jae's shoulder.

 

the prince merely shook his head, not taking pleasure in the massacre although he knew perfectly well that it was necessary.

 

It had been one of the most valuable lessons his father and then Uncle Brandon had taught him. Sometimes violence was necessary. Often, too often, it was the only way.

 

“The path to the guardhouse is blocked, the bridge is collapsed,” informed Jae.

 

His announcement was followed by a series of expletives. In spite of all that happened, the news did not particularly surprise the men, the walls were not at their first attacks. The disputed Lands bore their names well and despite their riches had not known stability and peace for four hundred years. Dustown, his little bastion and forge were prime targets for everyone. It had been three months since Jae had been sent here to defend it. And it was already the fourth assault on the small town.

 

If he was honest with himself, the assaults and protection of the city had prevented Jae from sinking into the most total depression. Stuck in a pocket of his armor rested a letter the words of which had been as painful as a dagger in the back.

 

.

 

It was the first time an army had managed to cross the walls, and to his great shame he could only blame himself. Three days later, he was shown lax with his men, his mind drifting more and more on the letter. But it was too late to complain.

 

Jaehaerys sighed, it was useless now to think about that damned letter.

 

_ How Ser Jaime would make fun of me _ , thought the Prince fondly, thinking of the Lannister.

 

The Prince led his group, together they descended from the wall, joining the open-air mass grave that had become the market district. All around them bodies lay everywhere, the walls were splashed with blood and the flames devoured the buildings. The dirt roads had taken the color of blood. To his great sadness, the vast majority of bodies belonged to men and women that were disarmed, or worse, to children who had been massacred without mercy.

 

It was not the first carnage that the Prince saw, yet each time his heart filled with pain and sorrow. Without him wanting it, a memory floated in his mind. A memory of a time when the two young heir Princes were having fun, thinking that the battlefield was a glorious place to be. How much they were wrong.

 

He remembered not having understood his father's words when he had put his hands on their shoulder and looked at them both with his sad but loving gaze.

 

“Oh, my little ones. You are wrong, there is no glory in a battlefield. Never. I pray that you will never know the horror of war.”

 

Beside his father's soft voice, Jae heard the cold, stern voice of his grandfather, Lord Rickard.

 

“But, yes, you have to fight, win.”

 

The Prince blinked his eyes and drove away the sad memory of a happier hour. He would avenge these useless deaths, he promised himself.

 

Jaehaerys led his small group to the square facing the little portico leading to the Door district. The big square was black with bodies. The houses that adjoined her had been transformed into a makeshift infirmary, from which Jae could hear the screams of the wounded and dying.

 

“Jaehaerys!” called his second, another Westerosi exile just like him.

 

"Asher," said Jae, relieved to see that his countryman was still alive.

 

The young Northerners had been exiled by his lord father for the same thing as Jae... he loved the wrong person.

 

No, Jae does not think about her now, the young man corrected himself. He ignored the pain that hugged his heart as he remembered her naked body against his, her scent and laughter.

 

To escape from the memory was as difficult as it was painful, but he did it all the same. Concentrating on his mate while handing him a bottle of wine cut in the water. Grimacing to the taste, he drank with gratitude.

 

"The Khal is preparing an assault," Asher told him, picking it up.

 

The young Commander was not surprised by the news. The defenders were exhausted by the morning fight. An attack could completely break their defenses, no doubt for good. The Dothraki did not have the means to pierce the defenses of the bastion, but the rest of the city and the arsenals would undoubtedly be looted, the civilians raped and abducted.

 

Jae nodded, resolute. If the Khal wanted a fight, Jae would offer it to him.

 

"Well, if we kill him, the horde will break down on itself," Jae commented. “Soldiers! Formation!”

 

His order was resumed by the other sergeants and the Black Company began to move. In the middle of the formation the black banner of the Company floated in the wind, vestige of the time when the Black Company was a Elite Legion of the Valyrian Freehold.

 

Swords clear, the soldiers began to advance in the acrid smoke. Only the crackling of the fires and the unbearable sounds of bells that the Dothraki wore in their hair could be heard. Jae could see the detrimental effect of the strident sounds the soldiers intended to come to their meetings. Jae, on the other hand, did not get on his nerves. He was eager to stop this noise once and for all!

 

"Their bells get on my nerves," he said in a low voice without addressing anyone in particular. His sentence, however, had the beneficial effect of amusing his men.

 

"I'm going to hear their fucking bells for days after the victory," complained a man next to him.

 

“I'll stick this fucking bells up their asses!” bellowed the voice of the bloodthirsty sergeant who saved his life on the ramparts.

 

All other remarks were suddenly drowned in the cacophony of screams that the Dothraki let out all at the same time. Jae could hear the shrill shrieks of the Dothraki coming closer and closer and getting stronger with each step. It was their chance, however, the debris, the fire and the bodies prevented the Dothraki from being able to take advantage of their greater strength forcing them to fight on foot.

 

Finally, the smoke cleared up a little, leaving at last a glimpse of the shadows of their enemies. For a moment the two groups silently watched each other, almost surprised to find themselves face to face in the middle of the paved square.

 

“Charge!” the Rogue Prince shouted.

 

In a single voice the mercenaries screamed as they launched the assault, their cries surpassing the screams that the Dothraki sent them in response.

 

“To death!”

 

“Show no mercy!”

 

Driven by his momentum, Jae brutally hit a Dothraki in the face with his shield, while his sword fell on the shoulder of a second, sinking cruelly into his flesh. With a furious kick, Jae chased his opponent to free his sword. Beside him, one of his companions cut off the head of a howler with his axe before the arakh of another cracked his skull.

 

All around him, the fighting was raging. Soon the pavement became slippery because of the blood.

 

A blow caught Jae by surprise. A powerful punch of a great Dothraki warrior who broke his nose, making him see stars for a short time. It were only the hard-won reflexes after training with the Kingsguard’s knights who saved the Prince. Rolling on the side, he avoided the blow to his throat.

 

Disarmed, the exile searched for a weapon, before finally falling on a Morgenstern of coarse iron. Rearmed, Jae turned to face his attacker. He parried the next with his shield, the Dothraki vociferating in his tongue. With a vicious blow, he pushed aside the shield, leaving Jae unprotected. The savage took his arakh with both hands, a cruel smile on his lip, and slashed his weapon at Jaehaerys.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle continue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Scarlet for the translation <3  
> Meemaw for her wise advise too !

Three months earlier

 

Jaehaerys Targaryen was satisfied with sitting in his chair. The Prince let his eyes rest on the horizon. As always the late afternoon on Myrn's Bay was sublime. The young Prince had just returned after the meeting with the Black Company’s staff. The meeting with the other leaders of the Company had taken a good part of his day but went well, their contract with the hegemon of Azantyr-Egros was renewed for another five years, which was exceptional. It had been more than 200 years since the Black Company was bleeding on the ground of the Disputed Lands.

 

At first Jae had wanted to join the Rose Company, but unfortunately the sellsword company had left Azantyr Egros shortly before he disembarked from the boat that had taken him to this land of exile for six years. It wasn’t really a loss, the Black Company had an excellent reputation, its lacked notoriety only due to the fact that they hardly left the Disputed Lands.

 

The meeting had especially enabled Jae to have his first solo command. As a Prince, Jaehaerys had received an education, but education could not replace experience. For the past three years, he had been chaperoned by a more experienced Commander. It would end in only two days, when Jae and his Company would have to follow the river and go to the city of Dustown, which he, alone, would have to protect for three months.

 

Unwittingly, his gaze turned to the northwest, in the direction of Westeros, his homeland. The land from which he had been exiled three years ago. His new job gave him the irresistible urge to write to his family. He wanted to share his pride with them so much. Jae could perfectly imagine their reaction. Rhaenys, Elia, her mother and grandmother would be furious, worried and proud at the same time. Aegon, no doubt, would be jealous, Jae’s position as the spare heir having always allowed him more freedom than the Crown Prince. And of course there was Dany, oh, he could perfectly picture her fury at the news, her attempts at deterrence, her support and their goodbyes.

 

_ Gods, I miss them so much _ , thought Jae, sighing, unconsciously glancing at the fabric around his neck. It was a silk embroidery, whose thread had been gradually damaged by time. The red had faded and the exile’s pitiful attempts to sew the holes had made the rag a ruin. Yet, it was one of the few things left to him of Daenerys.

 

The Prince was drawn from his depressing thoughts when he heard a little knock on the door. Asher being busy in the training grounds, it surprised Jae. He was not expecting anyone, perhaps it was one of his officers who wanted to talk, offer him advice? Behind the door was not a grizzled veteran, like excepted, but a little girl with a toothless smile escort by a young guard. One of Varys’ little birds.

 

As usual, the child handed him a thick bundle of paper, Jaehaerys offering some silvers and coppers back while ruffling the girl's blonde hair. With a wave of the hand he dismissed the soldier. Jae waited to see him disappear from the stairs, dragging in his wake the little girl who turned to greet him with his hand to close his study twice.

 

Once alone, Jae sat at the little desk near the window leading to the balcony, and for a moment he appreciated the cool breeze from the Myrth Sea. The city of Mercenaries, Azantyr-Egros, was situated between Myr and Tyrosh, on the flanks of the rich mountains of the Disputed Lands.

 

It had been a real scandal when Quentyn Martell had discovered the relationship - anything but discreet - that Jae and Daenerys had been maintaining for several years. Stupidly, Jae had accepted the exile. His father, the King, had not taken the news, much less the wounds the Prince had inflicted on Quentyn Martell. Jae had regretted giving in to anger at the frog prince, it was anger that had deprived him of his family and his lover for three years now.

 

The Martells, always quick to complain and moan, had asked that Jae be punished, and as always his father gave in to the guilt he felt towards Elia's family. Six years of exile was his punishment. His father had sent him to Essos with nothing, just a purse of gold and a few personal effects. He had hardly been able to say goodbye to his family. Fortunately for him, his uncle Lord Brandon had reacted very quickly, taking advantage of the feud between the Forrester and Whitehill, he sent Asher and four other Northerners to Essos to keep Jae company, promising Asher the hand of Gwyn Whitehill and a keep on his return... or a horrible and painful death if anything happened to his nephew.

 

Unfortunately, the engagement had not been broken, the bloodshed had only made Rhaegar more determined to satisfy the wishes of the Martells. Neither the complaints of his brothers and sister nor his mother’s rage had been able to soften Jae's punishment.

 

Jaehaerys was angry with his father. More than once Jae and Daenerys had made known their mutual love to Rhaegar and their desire to unite, yet the King continued to bow to Doran's oversized ego. His father blamed himself for falling in love with Lyanna and taking her for a wife. It had almost started a war, Robert Baratheon still wanted the King’s head for stealing his fiancée, the poor fool completely ignored that his mother hated the very sight of the Lord of Storm’s End.

 

Jae sighed, settling comfortably in his chair. As always, Lord Varys offered the rogue Prince detailed information about Westeros' latest events, as well as the latest news from the court. It was sometimes a boring reading, sometimes hilarious or even scandalous. When the Prince finally arrived on the last page it was already late. The sun illuminated the horizon with a twilight glow. To his surprise, he came to a last letter sealed by a familiar sigil.

 

The royal Prince recognized the familiar writing of his father. His heart beat wildly, fear and hope both raging in his chest. He unscrolled the long letter and as he read, he became paler, an excruciating pain tearing his heart at his father's words.

 

_ My son, _

 

_ I hope this letter will find you well. Although your exile is a necessity and a great pain in my heart and in our family, I am sure you understand the reason for it. If you are reading this letter today it is because I mean to offer you to return home with us. With your family. _

 

_ I imagine perfectly your surprise, but I want to make sure that your return is arranged. Indeed, in less than four months, my sister Princess Daenerys Targaryen will take Quentyn Martell for a husband. It's time for you and young Quentyn to end your childish quarrel. That's why I want your presence in King’s Landing. _

 

_ I'm sure your time away from us allowed you to see the madness of your actions. That your experience in the Disputed Lands has made you grow. Your birthright and home are waiting for you, my child. _

 

_ Please, my son, come back to Westeros. Let's put aside the past and move forward together, into the future. I'm sure your craze for Daenerys is drying up. _

 

_ A ship will come looking for you a few weeks after the festivities, I am sure you will understand that your presence might upset the bridegroom. _

 

_ I can not wait to see you again, my son. _

 

_ His Majesty, King Rhaegar the First. _

 

Pain, agony, and fury were the only things Jae felt when he read his father's letter. As fast as it appeared, his anger disappeared, leaving Jaehaerys slumped down on his chair as silent tears ran down his cheeks.

 

“Dany…”

 

Dustown, present day

 

Disarmed, the exile searched for a weapon, before finally falling on a Morgenstern of coarse iron. Rearmed, Jae turned to face his attacker. He parried the next with his shield, the Dothraki vociferating in his tongue. With a vicious blow, he pushed aside the shield, leaving Jae unprotected. The savage took his arakh with both hands, a cruel smile on his lip, and slashed his weapon at Jaehaerys.

 

The Prince rolled himself to the right, just in time for the arakh to hit the pavement, producing a small spark. The savage went mad and with a terrifying frenzy offered Jae a real barrage. Each of them accompanies swearing and curses in his language. All that Jae could do was grit his teeth and ignore the dull ache that was gradually growing in the arm that held his shield. Finally, the barbarian managed to pierce the guard of the rogue Prince, his shield tossed away. The colossus smiled, a spark of victory dancing in his eyes. Desperate, Jaehaerys ignored the pain in his arm and nose for a reckless counterattack. The animal's smile faded, however, as Jae slammed the mace on his face in the middle of a sentence.

 

Without waiting, Jae continued the fight, with an ample gesture in a circular arc, he struck at the back of the Dothraki’s skull. Pieces of brain and broken bones flew under the impact. Ignoring the horror and filth, the young Targaryen felt his blood boiling, an unnamed rage pulsing through his veins as he attacked the nearest Dothraki. With a force increased by his fury, Jae slashed his weight into the warrior’s bare chest. His victim’s ribcage collapsed under the force of the blow, the steel head of his mass jamming into the bones of his chest, preventing Jae from recovering the coarse but effective weapon.

 

Noticing a sword on the ground, he abandoned the mass in the broken body of the Dothraki just in time to parry a shot from another barbarian. Before Jae could defend himself, an axe in the shoulder made the savage scream in pain. Asher stood behind his victim with a wild smile, his blood-sprayed face made him a terrifying sight.

 

His friend took the wounded Dothraki by the braid, while pulling his axe off his shoulder. In two powerful gestures he decapitated the rider. Asher raised his sinister trophy high. The blood flowed from the wound, coloring his arm in red as cheers and cries of joy were heard all around them, exciting even more the wolves that had become the mercenaries.

 

“Kill all those dogs!”

 

“Massacre them to the last!”

 

“Show them what happens to those who dare attack the Black Company!”

 

“BLACK COMPANY! BLACK COMPANY! BLACK COMPANY!”

 

Their ardor renewed, the men of the legion redoubled their efforts, pushing back the front line little by little. Jae stood in the middle of his men. His new sword in hand, he was mowing his enemies, each shot taking a bloody harvest. More than once, Jae almost slipped on the blood-stained pavement or on a body lying on the ground, yet he continued his sinister work.

 

Nothing mattered to him anymore, it was only killing and surviving.

 

Jae crossed the iron with an imposing Dothraki, this one must be more important than the others. He wore a leather armor that covered his entire chest and a greasy goat skin was draped around his shoulders. In his hands two sharp arakhs, which he used with impressive dexterity. As Jae folded the crossed blades to the right, the marauder sent a twisted blow to the Prince's nose. He grunted in pain, tears blinding him as he recoiled. Despite his blurred vision he was able to block the shot that followed. He raised his shield, then suddenly he pushed forward, the Dothraki was surprised and slid back.

 

Jae tried to push his sword into the naked stomach of his opponent, but deftly, he dodged at the last moment. With one stroke of the arakh he pushed back Jae's sword without succeeding in disarming the Prince. Their mortal pavane thus continued during several exchanges. Jae appeared or dodged, while the blood rider did the same.

 

Their duel turned in Jae's favor when, with a daring movement, he plunged under the blades of the aggressor. Finding himself on the back of the Dothraki, Jon struck a blow to his back with his shield, surprised he slipped on a pool of blood and lay face down on the ground. The Dothraki gave a furious scream, which turned into a painful wail when Jae forcefully pushed the point of his shield into the bottom of his back. Despite being grounded the ferocious warrior struggled, finally stopping his movements when Jae planted his blade in his spine.

 

The rogue Prince raised his head and looked around him, the Dothraki receding more and more towards the city gate. But Jon knew that they would not give up until the harrow came down.

 

“Asher!” Jae shrieked when he saw his second dragging one of their soldiers who had a stomach injury.

 

“Prin- Commander?” Asher asked, his voice crackled.

 

"Take some men and go to the door and lower the portcullis," Jae ordered, pointing to the massive structure he had tried to reach earlier without success.

 

“It will be done, chief.”

 

"Sneak in when I take the charge," clarified the young exile.

 

“Are you sure it's a good idea?” Asher asked in a worried voice, “I'm not sure-”

 

"Who will bring them if not their leaders?" grunted Jae, taking Asher by the back of his neck and sticking his forehead to his. “Be careful, brother.”

 

“To me! Soldiers!” Jae screamed loudly. “To me!”

 

All around him the soldiers were hurrying, reforming a line quickly despite the exhaustion, the wounds and the dead. They were animated by a fatal determination, a longing for revenge. Jae knew they would follow him, none of them had ever failed him.

 

“One last charge! Let's chase these barbarians out of the city! Death! DEATH!”

 

“DEATH!”

“Charge!”

 

The fight resumed,even more fierce than before. With a powerful blow of his shield, Jae opened the throat of a horse lord. Next to him another man was busy ripping open another Dothraki with a sword. It was the time of the wolves. Jae continued to make his bloody path to his target: the Khal.

 

The man was a real beast, a long black braid filled with bells that proved his victories in combat. His muscular torso was covered with blue war paint. His dark eyes veiled in fury when the Khal finally noticed the Commander who had stood up to him and almost humiliated him in front of his khalasar. He grunted something in his language, which Jaehaerys could only assume to be an insult.

 

The fighters were back, leaving Jae and his opponent the necessary space for their duel to death. The Dothraki was the first to attack, a blow from the top down that Jae deviated with his shield before offering his opponent a thrusting shot that was aimed at his belly. The savage dodged him without much difficulty, offering Jae a scornful grin.

 

The Prince countered by swinging his sword on the right side of the Dothraki. With a speed that surprised Jae, the Khal managed to block his attack without hesitation, while swinging a powerful punch in his belly. The blow was so powerful that the Targaryen felt his foot off the ground. The young Prince drew back, struggling to catch his breath, just in time to avoid a vicious attack that would have otherwise split his skull.

 

Jae cursed, which seemed to make the savage laugh. Jae could feel the rage mounting in him. He knew it was not a good thing. He had to stay lucid.

 

Inhaling, then exhaling, the young Commander stopped himself, waiting for the next attack.

 

The wait did not last long, a feint that took Jon by surprise. His heart was pounding as he stepped aside in an attempt to dodge. The attack carried, hitting his steel shoulder. The curved blade cut deeply into the worn metal, and Jaehaerys could feel the bite of the steel in his flesh.

 

The Dothraki groaned, frustrated at not being able to hurt the Targaryen more severely. The Khal snarled something in his tongue that made the other Dothraki laugh. Jae scowled. Then went on the attack, a thrust forward followed by a thrust right to the throat of the savage. The latter widened his eyes and barely avoided the Prince, however, gave his chance by giving an uppercut to the Dothraki with his shield. The blow hit the Khal in the face, cracking his lip and breaking his nose. The exile attacked in the wake with a sword stroke that laced the torso of the Khal from the shoulder to the bottom of the ribs.

 

The wounds infuriated the Khal who charged Jae without thinking. The Prince did not expect it, luckily for a second, the reminder of a stinging humiliation offered him by the White Bull came back to his memory. Copying the gestures of his old mentor, Jaehaerys put his knee down and used his shield to tip the Khal over him. Carried away by his enthusiasm and his blind fury, the Khal was thrown to the ground.

 

Jae tried to finish the fight by planting the tip of his blade in the body of the warlord, but unfortunately the barbarian recovered quickly and rolled over and away from Jae. Rising, the Khal again launched a furious attack. The Khal's attacks were less and less accurate, he lost patience and his rage blinded him. During an attack that left the Khal exposed, the rogue Prince knocked a vicious boot, stepping to his right, Jae let the Khal be swept away by his momentum. The Prince's blade sang of joy when it met the flesh of the Khal. The blade hit just above the elbow, dismembering the Khal cruelly.

 

Jaehaerys Targaryen continued his dance, in two steps he found himself behind his back. Jae swinged his sword in the jambess of the beast, a wide blow that cut off his ankles. The Khal fell on his knees in a cry of pain and fury.

 

The dark Prince planted his shield in the ground. His gaze was determined and a cruel gleam shone in his obsidian eyes. Jaehaerys took his sword and stood on the side of the Khal. He raised his supplicating gaze to him, the Khal knew that Jae was going to kill him in the most shameful way possible for a Dothraki.

 

"No," grumbled the Khal plaintively.

 

Imagining how this monster could know Jae's language filled him with disgust and fury. In an angry shout he slammed his sword on the Khal's neck, beheading him. The head fell in a sickening noise on the cobblestones, the Khal's face eternally stuck in a supplicating grimace.

 

Jae bent down to take the head by the thick black hair filled with bells. For a moment he observed the features of his adversary. He raised his macabre trophy to his men who screamed with joy. Then he turned back to the savages and threw his severed head at the feet of the Dothraki who recoiled in horror at the fate of their leader. At the same moment a loud noise was heard.

 

Asher had accomplished his mission.

 

The harrow suddenly dropped like the axe of the executioner, it sealed the fate of fifty Dothraki who were stuck between their walls. Without having to give the order, his men advanced slowly, like wolves encircling sheep. Sinister smiles were on their faces as their eyes glowed voraciously.

 

The dark Prince pointed his sword toward the Dothraki.

 

“Kill these pigs!” Jae ordered, his voice echoing throughout the place.

 

In a cry of rage, the wolves chased on their prey in a bloody massacre. Jae meanwhile stood aside, exhausted. He took a few steps before feeling dizzy. His head was turning so much that he had to lean against one of the ruined buildings to prevent himself from falling. Breathing hard, he let himself slide gently to the ground. He blinked several times, his vision blurred. 


	3. Aegon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter will explain all thing about the Exile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Always, nothing of this can be publish without the help of Thescarletgarden! <3 thank you my dear you are a gift from heaven!   
> And! A BIG thanks to Meemaw for his wonderfull feedback! <3

**Blood Is Thicker Than Water**

 

“It's a shame!” growled Oberyn. “Never in the memory of Dorne was a Dornishman insulted as such by house Targaryen!”

Aegon held an annoyed sigh under the gaze of his father, King Rhaegar. But after almost two weeks, even Rhaegar's patience was put to the test. Beside Aegon, his sister looked at their uncle and cousin with contempt. She had never forgiven their maternal family for plotting to chase their little brother from Westeros.

 

His young aunt had humiliated Prince Quentyn before the whole kingdom, not that his stupid cousin could not do it alone. Aegon had expected Daenerys to flee before the ceremony. When Rhaegar had escorted his younger sister to the High Septon and a victorious smiling Quentyn, Aegon had been heartbroken for Jae and Dany, knowing how much the two loved each other.

 

_ I do not take this man for a husband. _

“Where is my fiancée?” Quentyn demanded, his eyes glistening with fury, his fists serrated and his olive face blushing with rage.

 

Rhaegar turned his gaze to the Dornian Prince. Absolutely unimpressed by Quentyn's childish anger, his purple eyes were as cold as the Wall as he answered in a calm voice. “Princess Daenerys took a ship for Essos.”

 

“To join him!” Quentyn growled furiously. “After humiliating me, he steals my wife! Dorne demands repair! I demand repair! A real punishment against him!”

 

The furious tirade filled Aegon with fury. It was only the cold voice of his father that stopped him.

"Lord Varys," said the king, turning his head towards the eunuch. “Did Jaehaerys have anything to do with Daenerys's refusal to marry the young prince?”

 

“No, your majesty” replied the spy-master gently, elaborately. "Under your orders, I made sure that no correspondence was possible between the prince and his family without you approving it.”

His elder sister sniffed beside him.

“Ah! Cousin Quentyn, always quick to accuse others while it's your own incompetence that's involved” Rhaenys laughed.

 

From the corner of his eye, Aegon watched his father, expecting a reprimand against his older sister. To his astonishment, his father didn’t say anything. A clear indication of how Father is annoyed by the dornish prince. The youngest Dornian prince flushed, but before he could answer Oberyn motioned him to be quiet. Their uncle threw a pained look in their directions.  _ Was he really trying to make them feel guilty? _

 

"Dorne will not take this insult lightly," raged Oberyn. Quentyn nodded vehemently.

 

His father's eyes narrowed, but before he could answer, he was interrupted by his wife's soft voice. Elia Martell was held discreet from the beginning. His mother had never been really for the marriage between Quentyn and Daenerys, although she never did anything to oppose it. Preferring as always let Rhaegar and Doran argue. And to say that it was partly thanks to her that they were in this position. 

 

“Quentyn had three years to enamour and conquer the heart of Daenerys,” mother said gently but with a rare severity. “Three years!” she continued, louder. “What did he do all this time? Rather than cultivate affection, he only cultivated contempt for himself!”

 

“Sister…”

 

"Silence, Oberyn," chided his sister, annoyed.

 

“My aunt is not..."

 

“What? Not your fault? Whose then? Prince Jaehaerys, maybe? Absent for three years by your own inability to parry a shot?”

Quentyn looked like he had swallowed a particularly bitter lemon. Beside him, Oberyn stood quietly, for good reason, it was under his guidance that Quentyn had challenged Jae to the first blood. His arrogant cousin had thought that being the squire of a fighter as formidable as Oberyn would allow him to defeat his brother in combat.

 

Mother shook her head in disgust. She seemed to want to continue her diatribe but changed her mind. Aegon offered a smile to her. He knew that all this history had hurt her. Stuck between loyalty to Dorne and her affections for Jaehaerys. She had preferred to keep her thoughts to herself and not take sides.

 

The crown prince could not help thinking that his mother should have spoken a long time ago. This whole story had become a mess.

 

“Can we move on to more serious things now?” Stannis Baratheon asked. As always his expression was as still as stone as he watched severely the two Dornish princes. “In particular, the disturbances to the public disorder that the men of Dorne committed since the announcement of the marriage between Princess Daenerys and the Dornish Prince.”

 

Stannis' appointment as Master of Law had surprised a lot of people. It was one of the many actions father had taken to heal the wounds of the past and calm grudges. If he was being honest, Aegon had had a lot of apprehensions about it. Fearing that Robert's younger brother was a copy of his older brother. A rascal, a drunkard, and a petticoat-rider embittered at having been denied Queen Lyanna's love...  _ as if any woman would bear this drunkard and whoremonger _ . He pitied Cersei Lannister, and that in spite of all the disgust that the woman inspired in him.

 

Stannis had replaced the old Jon Arryn after his death from a stomach ailment. No one in their family had cried for the man's disappearance, especially not Lyanna, who had always been wary of him. And that had not settled the already tense relationship between Eddard Stark and his sister. Arryn had also been one of the promoters of the marriage between Daenerys and Quentyn.  _ For the peace in the Kingdom,  _ he had said. 

 

The Lannister family had not been immediately rewarded, their apparent neutrality during the troubled times that had been Aerys' dispossession did not play to their favour. The old lion was, however, pleased to know that his granddaughter would be queen one day.

 

The Reach had been the most rewarded, Lord Redwyne had become the Master of Ships while Rhaenys had been betrothed to the heir of Mace, Willas. Of course, that did not stop the Tyrells from trying to put the Rose of Highgarden in his bed. That would probably have worked if it had not been for Jaehaerys' observations.

 

It was his brother who had warned him of the manipulative tendencies of the Rose. At first, Aegon had thought it was jealousy on the part of his little brother. Then, the discovery of the shared relationship between Daenerys and Jae had opened his eyes. And to his great shame, Jae had been right, as always his brother had wanted the best for him.

 

On the contrary, it was under the coaxing of his brother that Aegon had gotten closer to Myrcella Baratheon, at the time a lady in waiting of Lyanna. The shy young woman had turned out to be a real treasure and when the announcement of her engagement with him was made, Aegon had been delighted.

 

A burst of anger grabbed Aegon as he stared at his cousin's sullen face. He had not left the room, although he had sat in a corner, gloomily looking at the various members of the council. Aegon clenched his fist until the knuckles of his hands were white. He tried to hide his reaction under the table. As always, it only took one look for her older sister to know. Discreetly, she took her brother's hand and squeezed it. Aegon relaxed slightly, though his mood did not improve. The lavender eyes of her sister transmitting all her calm...

 

His brother was being missed,  _ horribly _ . Jae’s absence was almost a physical pain, as if one had torn a part of him from his body. Apart from the two years Jae had spent in the North and himself at Dorne, both had been inseparable, except, of course, when the two children were sulking for some childish quarrel.

 

Aegon was not the only one. Rhaenys had taken horribly to the exile of their brother. During their childhood, the princess had developed a deep sense of protection towards Jae. A fierce and sometimes terrifying feeling. Their sister quickly made people understand that she loved her brother no matter if he was born to a different mother.

 

Unlike Aegon, Rhaenys had no qualms or pity for their maternal family. Neither Oberyn's cajolery nor the attempts of the Sand Snakes to bind themselves to her had softened the princess. More than once, she had bluntly refused the Martell’s invitation to visit Dorne. Of course, Doran had taken it as an opportunity to complain to Rhaegar.

 

Doran's greed knew no bounds. Aegon knew that his father was trying to narrow down their numerous grievances. But the debt of blood that the Targaryen dynasty owed to Dorne was great. The massacre of several thousand Dornishmen who had been a part of Rhaegar's vanguard when he had marched against grandfather was a memory his father refused to forget.

 

It was not his Rhaegar's fault, however. Against the orders and against all logic, the Dornish had returned to the city, even though his mother and Ser Jaime had warned them of Aerys’ deceit. Too late, as soon as the army had entered the city, green flames had burned them down. It was only Ser Jaime who was able to prevent King's Landing from burning completely by stalking and kill all of Aerys alchemists.

 

Doran had used and abused this for over two decades. Prince Doran had, first of all, wanted Viserys to marry Arianne. Lack of luck for Doran, his daughter had been caught in a sexual act with a woman and two men. In other words, grandmother Rhaella had been furious at what she had discovered.

 

His father, too, was unhappy. It was from this moment that Doran began to push for a marriage between Daenerys and Quentyn. The engagement was very slow to put in place, astonishingly slow. Unfortunately, Aegon had been kept out of the way, his father kept his plans for himself and maintained them in the fog.

 

Prince Aegon did not know what his father thought of his actions since the spoiled ceremony. When Daenerys had refused in front of almost all the nobility of Westeros to marry Quentyn the first reaction of his father was amusement. Then, very quickly, his expression changed to mimic a shock. Rare was the person able to discern through the acting of the king, but Aegon could see the truth. His father was neither surprised nor dissatisfied. It was strange and the question had been bothering him for two weeks now.

  
  
  
  
  


It was late when Aegon finally decided to question his father rather than just make assumptions. Aegon came out of his room, and as usual, Ser Arys got up quickly, slightly alarmed, given the time.

 

“My prince? Is there a problem?” he enquired.

 

“No, Ser Arys,” reassured Aegon, “I'm going to see my father. You can wait for my return here.”

 

“Do not get lost towards the guests' wings,” Ser Aerys gently teased.

 

Aegon rolled his eyes but smiled at the knight's jest.

 

The prince walked quickly. The corridors of the family wing were deserted and silent. With a twinge in his heart, he passed the corridors of Jaehaerys’ chambers. Aegon was happy when his father refused the Martell family the right to settle in Jae's chambers.  _ Quentyn _ , he thought disgustedly,  _ does not waste any chance trying to hurt my brother _ .

 

Aegon arrived quickly in front of the corridor that led to the study. At the end of it, he could distinguish the white form of the two guards on duty that night. The prince hurried. He stopped and greeted them as they stared at him in silence.

 

“I would like to speak to my father,” announced the prince.

 

Today it was the turn of Ser Arthur and the youngest member of the guard, Ser Loras Tyrell, to stand sentry. Aegon observed with fascination the silent communication between the two men. Finally, the youngest just nodded to his superior and turned to enter the room.

 

The Crown Prince breathed a sigh of relief: the incessant talking about Margaery was genuinely embarrassing. Ser Arthur looked at him, amused, knowing perfectly well what the young man he had helped to form was thinking.

 

“Tired of hearing about Lady Margaery, my prince?” Ser Arthur asked with a smile on his lips.

 

“To be honest... yes, it becomes embarrassing after a while. Especially considering that Ser Loras is not as discreet as I would like him to be,” grimaced the prince.

 

“No, indeed," said Ser Arthur, shaking his head, disillusioned. “I imagine Lady Myrcella does not really have a high opinion of him, either.”

 

Aegon chuckled.  _ It was an understatement.  _ Ser Loras had the idiocy of talking about his sister while his fiancée, Myrcella, was close.

 

“How is father’s mood?” Aegon asked, worried about disturbing his father when he was too busy to pay him attention.

 

Ser Arthur stared at him blankly. He hesitated loudly, after all, he was sworn to secrecy with regard to his king, even when talking to the heir to the throne. Finally, he spoke.

 

“His majesty seemed neither happy nor discontented when at the last event.”

 

Aegon rose one of his silver eyebrows. It was interesting, and seemed to corroborate what Aegon was thinking.

 

“Do you think Father knew about Princess Daenerys’ plans?” 

 

Ser Arthur sighed, visibly annoyed.

 

“Who can say it? You know your father, he always keeps his cards close to his chest.”

 

The knight was right. The lack of communication from his father was a big problem. Since an early age, while he still was under the suspicious eyes of the mad King, Rhaegar had taken to keep secrets, projecting and thinking for himself. A habit he had never managed to lose since deposing his father.

 

Before Aegon could continue to speak, the door opened, revealing Ser Loras.

 

“His majesty is currently busy, but you may wait in his study,” said the young knight.

 

Aegon just nodded before entering the room. He turned to Ser Loras who seemed to want to follow him.

 

“I know the way, Ser Loras, you may stay.”

 

Without waiting for an answer, the prince entered the little room which served as an antechamber. He then opened the study door, which he closed again in silence. His father sat at his desk, silently writing a letter. Totally focused on his task, he did not look up to greet his son.

 

Patiently, Aegon took the opportunity to inspect the room. As usual, his father's study was full of books. They were everywhere, whether on the wall, or the different tables around. The scarce free space on the wall was filled with a large portrait of the royal family. It was an old painting dating back to the beginning of his father's reign. It represented the king and his wife as well as the royal children. Aegon and Jaehaerys were both in Lyanna's arms, while Rhaenys was standing next to his father. Everyone had a sweet smile on their faces.

  
  
  


Then his gaze turned to the left, at the top of a library. There, there was a crystal jar directly hidden between the leather-covered books. Inside there were small objects similar to gems of opal. In reality, they were simple lemon candies.

 

It was a ridiculously well-kept secret, but his father had a sweet tooth. Something he shared with all his children. More than once, Rhaenys, Jae and himself had launched into plans as complicated as childish to steal the precious dragee.

 

Aegon still recalled a childhood memory of when he tried to help Jae reach the jar while Rhaenys watched the door. A cheerful smile stretched over the prince's lips as he remembered the many scenes that had unfolded here.

 

Unconsciously, Aegon reached for the jar.

 

"Aren’t you too old to try to steal the sweets from your old father?” asked a soft voice.

 

The prince turned to his father. His violet eyes were looking at his eldest, a soft smile on his lips.

 

"Father," greeted Aegon.

 

"Son," returned the king, rising from his seat.

 

His father went to the little table where a tray was sitting. He poured two glasses of wine. The king handed one to Aegon, who accepted it. Then, rather than going to his office, he led his son to two chairs in front of the hearth.

 

With a wave of his hand, Rhaegar invited his son to sit down. Aegon felt his heart beat, he was hoping to finally get the answers to his questions.

 

Father and son looked at each other without saying anything for a moment. Rhaegar looked exhausted, he crossed his hands, seemingly waiting. His father was obviously expecting to have this conversation with his son. And that only reinforced Aegon's curiosity. Finally, Aegon decided to ask the question:

 

“You knew, did you?” he asked, knowing that his father was aware of what he was going to ask him.

 

“Yes, or rather, I knew some of my sister's plans,” Rhaegar admitted with a slightly amused smile. “I must admit that she surprised me when she made the decision to humiliate your cousin so publicly. 

 

“Varys?”

 

“Indeed. From his own confession, the Spider had a hard time discovering Daenerys’ plan.”

 

Aegon nodded, Daenerys was usually very cautious and discreet. In hindsight, Aegon might have known, his aunt had been a tad  _ too  _ discreet. However, his father's reaction intrigued him even more. Despite the mess with the Martells, despite the time, the years lost in negotiation, Rhaegar seemed indifferent to the failure of the betrothal.

 

“That does not seem to bother you more than that, father, why?”

 

“Our goal for Dorne was reached months before the wedding,” Rhaegar told him, a proud smile on his lips.

 

Aegon blinked a few times, what was his father talking about? What were his goals?

 

“Your goal, father? Is it not to reunite House Martell and House Targaryen?”

 

“It was a secondary goal, at best. It would have been nice to have someone with total loyalty at the throne in Dorne, but not necessary.”

 

His father's answer and explanation made Aegon even more confused.

 

“What was your goal, father?”

 

Rhaegar did not answer right away. He darted his violet gaze on the eldest of his children. Then a smile slowly grew, it was a satisfied smile, proud and victorious. With a twinge of his heart, Aegon remembered that it was the same smile that Jae had when he finally managed to defeat Ser Jaime. It was the smile of a dragon or a wolf who was preparing to feast on the flesh of his opponent.

 

“To finish conquering Dorne, my son, and set House Martell back on track.”

 

Aegon looked at his father with surprise and utter incomprehension. What was his father talking about? Dorne had been subject to the crown since 187, after the marriage of Maron Martell and his Daenerys.

 

“What? I do not understand. Father, Dorne is one of seven kingdoms since the marriage with Maron Martell.”

 

“Really?” Rhaegar asked in return.

 

To prove his point, Rhaegar rose from his seat and reached a large stack of books and scrolls. He dropped the books on the table with a loud  _ thud _ . Aegon frowned, recognizing some of them as the accounts of the royal court.

 

“The Prince of Dorne is the person who is in charge of calculating and paying us the royal taxes. It was one of the numerous concessions of King Daeron II.”

 

Aegon frowned, he knew that, thanks to the lesson of Maester Pycelle, that the boast of Oberyn or Doran attempt to influence Aegon to his side.

 

“During our negotiations for the wedding between Viserys and Princess Arianne, one of Varys' men came across Sunspear's account books. All this is only a small part of six years of careful investigation. To say that the numbers show a huge difference is a euphemism. House Martell cheated Targaryen House since the Great Spring Sickness.”

 

Aegon took one of the ledgers in his hands. The young Crown Prince studied it for several minutes. As he was about to ask, his father handed him sheets of parchment, probably copies of the Martells’ account books. The reading left him bitter, one year Dorne even dared to pay fewer taxes than the Iron Island!

 

“What do the Martells do with the money they do not pay us?” Aegon asked.

 

If the Martells did exactly what he thought they were doing... the publication of this report would trigger a war.

 

His father did not need words, the bitter expression he showed his son said everything he needed to know. Aegon shook his head in disgust.

 

The prince had no doubts that, in a way, almost all the lords of Westeros were trying to find a way to pay fewer taxes, it was expected. An honest lord was something to be wary of. Either they prepared something sinister... or they prepared the ground for a request that was important to them.

 

“Father... do you plan to make this public?” Aegon asked suspiciously.

 

“This will depend solely on Prince Doran,” Rhaegar replied simply.

 

The prince swirled the red wine in his cup. Hesitating to ask the question that haunted his mind. Finally, he brought the cup to his lips and drank, seeking the courage to face the truth.

 

“Was Mother aware?” he asked, his voice softened by the hesitation. 

 

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, his father seemed hesitant as well, making Aegon fear the answer.

 

“I- I did not dare ask her, "Rhaegar confessed. “Your mother and I have a complicated relationship.”

 

This was the euphemism of the year. Princess Elia was the one who wanted to put an end to their marriage. Her fear of the Mad King far outweighed her desire to be Queen. What she had taken the most badly was that she was so quickly replaced by Queen Lyanna. Despite everything, she had stayed at King's Landing, to take care of him as well as Rhaenys.

 

The relationship between Princess Elia and the Queen was cordial and respectful. His mother had told him more than once that she was grateful to Lyanna for taking care of them when her fragile health had nailed her to bed. His mother had done this goodness in kind to their little brother, treating him with the same care and affection that Lyanna showed to Elia's children. It had been Queen Lyanna’s kindness and adoration towards him and his sister that had helped Mother move on, and to her credit, she returned that love tenfold by loving Jae as her own.

 

Aegon sighed, did he really want to know if his mother knew that Doran was stealing from the crown? Stealing the inheritance of his own son?

 

“What are you going to demand from Doran?” Aegon questioned.

 

“The dismissal of many privileges, to begin with,” replied Rhaegar. “Dorne always held the rest of Westeros at arm's length. Each lord was in a position to dictate their own prices... Why do you think that the acid juice they call wine is so expensive?”

 

Aegon snorted with laughter, the Dornish wine often gave him a stomachache when he had to drink some.

 

“This, of course, is just one example. Dorne has always preferred to trade with Essos, totally neglecting the rest of Westeros.”

 

“How are you going to explain that to the Dornish lords without telling them about the stealing?” Aegon frowned.

 

“We have planned this in court for three years... since Jae's exile,” Rhaegar admitted, his eyes became sweeter and full of regret.

 

Aegon's heart missed a beat. His father rarely spoke of his son's exile. Even in private. the king never showed his feelings about it. Seeing his father looking so hurt and vulnerable was a relief in some ways.

 

“I wish there had not been a need to exile your brother. But at the time, it was the best thing to do. Doran was furious and I was afraid it would become a problem if I did not punish Jae.”

 

“Punish him, yes! But why exile him, why send Jae to Essos?”

 

Rhaegar sighed heavily and frowned.

 

“I originally planned to send Jae to the North, but the late Lord Rickard refused,” Rhaegar shook his head. “My father-in-law felt that sending his grandson to Winterfell was not a severe enough punishment.”

 

Aegon huffed in turn. That did not surprise him; Aegon had never met Lord Brandon's father, but the description that Jae had given him was enough to get a good idea of the character.

 

_ My grandfather is as cold and heartless as the Wall. _

 

“I see.”

 

The room plunged into silence, father and son immersed in their thoughts. Finally, Aegon broke the silence again.

 

“How did you use Jae's exile to promote your plans?” Aegon asked, confused.

 

"It's not me," Rhaegar smiled. “It's only Lyanna's work.”

 

“How?” Aegon was sceptical, Lya spent her time away from the yard ...

 

And then it clicked. He remembered the storm of fury that Lyanna had become when Jae was exiled. When finally Lyanna was set to visit Westeros. Avoiding her husband as much as possible, always furious against him. Obviously, his stepmother had other plans.

 

“Have you travelled, she used her travels to advance your plans? Is that it?”

 

"Indeed,” Rhaegar smiled. “As Dorne looked at the dragon over their heads... they did not see the wolves around them.”

 

His father got up to fetch the pitcher of wine. When he resumed his place, he continued.

 

“When I exiled your brother... I chose to explain my reasons to Lyanna for the sake of our marriage. As you can imagine, she did not take it well that our son was sacrificed. She understood my reasons even if she hated them.”

 

Aegon approved. He shared the same opinion as his stepmother.

 

“It was her idea to put Doran totally bent to our knee. Lyanna did not just want Doran to be in knee, she wanted him totally at our mercy.”

 

The prince snickered, yes, it was indeed true to Lyanna's character. She would not be satisfied with a simple setting, not after the blow that Oberyn and Quentyn had shot at Jaehaerys.

 

“Lyanna therefore negotiated and arranged commercial contracts and marriages between families loyal to House Targaryen and Dorne's influential Houses,” Rhaegar finished, smiling, his purple eyes admiring and full of love for his wife.

 

His son shook his head in amusement. Glad to know that the relationship between his father and stepmother was improving, although he doubted that it could be totally cured, even after the return of his little brother.

 

“And what about Jae and Dany? When will he be home?”

 

Rhaegar's face darkened and his smile fell.

 

“I offered Jae an opportunity to return before the wedding, to prevent Daenerys from escaping to Essos. I had no answer,” Rhaegar admitted in a pained voice.

 

“Father... did you explain to my brother your reasons... or did you keep all that secret?” he asked at once, accusing and distrustful.

 

The guilt-ridden face of his father was the only answer he needed. In his mind, he cursed his grandfather the Mad King, it was because of the terror Rhaegar had endured under his father’s rule that he had taken the bad habit of never taking the time to talk. A habit that even after twenty years, he had not managed to lose.

 

“Damn, father!” Aegon swore. “Is it-”

 

“I know,” Rhaegar defended himself, “I made a mistake, Lyanna already made me feel... Mother too,” confessed Rhaegar.

 

Aegon sighed in frustration. His father, however, continued.

 

“On the other hand, I have everything on paper for Daenerys. Ser Davos was to hand it to her when she took off.”

 

It was better than nothing, Aegon thought.

 

“And for their returns? Is it possible to shorten Jae's exile?”

 

“No,” gently confirmed his father. “I made justice, if he comes back we would look weak... or worse. Doran would use this to spread rumours. I could not stop him from doing so.”

 

Aegon nodded. It was probably the best.

 

_ No doubt I'll be an uncle when they come home, _ Aegon thought with a smile. At his side, his father looked like he shared is though, because with a smile he rose his cup of wine in a silent toast. 


	4. Chapter IV: Daenerys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and his companions roamed the streets of Azantyr Egros.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> So we are at the end of this little story...when I have begins to write this my only goal was to write an brutal and I hope realistic battle to be honest...Thanks to MeeMaw...I have write A LOT more!  
> Speak of MeeMaw: I want to really thanks her for all his support! I love you girls! You are the best! <3  
> ThescarletGarden: I know how bad you feel sweetheart <3 I really hope the last chapter will make you feel better! Thank you very much for your support too <3 
> 
> And of course, thank you to all reader and your comment. It's very important and motivating for the writer to know their work is appreciate! Thank you all! 
> 
> I will not speak about how stupid are this season...I just want to say: Jonerys will survive because of US!

**Chapter IV: Daenerys**

 

Ghost rushed into the streets of the city as soon as they stepped on the quay. Beside her Ser Davos laughed at this. “Poor boy”, joked the old sailor. “I do not think he's made for the life of a sailor.”

 

“No, indeed Ser Davos”, agreed Daenerys with a smile.

 

Poor Ghost had hated being on the ship, trapped on it for five days, shaking and moaning. A real heartbreak.

 

Soon Ghost returned, the huge wolf about the size of a pony standing beside her. Daenerys rubbed his head, receiving a loving lick from Jae’s wolf. Daenerys smiled, Ghost had been her most fierce protector since Jae's exile. 

 

_ Quentyn, this vermin, it was more than once a complaint. Well, now he has something else to complain about. _

 

Thinking of her former fiance reminded her of Rhaegar's letter. Her mood darkened, how much could have been avoided if her brother had taken the time to explain things. Jae could have spent the last three years with her and she would not have to worry every day that the love of her life might have died fighting the savages on the battlefield.

 

Ser Barristan followed the wolf and soon found her standing at the harbor. The old knight had insisted on exploring the city before she set foot there and Ser Davos too had taken his side.

 

“Prince Jaehaerys returned from a three-month campaign a week ago”. Informed the old knight.

 

“Who told you that?” Asked Ser Davos, curious.

 

“Hmm ... ladies?” hesitating the knight, blushing.

 

The knight's words startled Daenerys.  _ Had her Jae forgotten their love? Has he been finding comfort in the arms of another? _ A hint of worry shadowed her face as the ill thought made way into her mind. That had always been her biggest fear, losing him.

 

Jae was hers! _ He is mine.  _ She reflected, raising her chin with conviction.

 

Unconscious of dark thoughts raging in the princess's mind, the two men continued their discussions.

 

“Oh? And what did his  _ ladies _ look like, Ser barristan?” chuckled Davos.

 

“Uh ... they were very...   _ desirable _ ... and very under-dressed too.” the old knight hesitated. “They wore a strange white mask”, he said, sounding  more perplexed than embarrassed this time.” I think she was a kind of priestess?”

 

“Oh? Was it near a black stone building with golden inscription? Statue of black cats with a white skull mask for face?” enquired Davos.

 

“Yes, yes it is exactly that.” Barristan was the one sounding more inquisitive this time.

 

“I see”, mused Ser Davos. “Did she tell you where we could find Her Holiness?”

 

“High city, the priestesses say. They will have to inform us near a building bearing the colors of the Black Compagny ... in front of the Golden Company,” finished more severely Barristan. No doubt the remember of the slaughter from the Ninepenny War come to his mind

 

“Priestesses?”, Daenerys asked perplexed.

 

Davos hummed. “Oh yes, a strange goddess of fertility and death if I remember correctly? Do not be vexed, princess,” Ser Davos smiled softly, “Prince Jae did not forget you”, reassured the old smuggler smiling sweetly at her, as always.

 

As often, the words of the old smuggler warmed her heart. He had been the first to discover their truth and had always helped them in every way he could. The old sailor had found them while she and Jae were kissing each other in one of the obsidian caves. To their great surprise, Ser Davos had neither denounced nor implored them to separate. Instead, the old man had dragged them to his home at Dragonstone.

 

What followed had been the most embarrassing moment of her and Jae’s lives, Daenerys remembered blushingly. Davos took Jae aside, while she stayed with Ser Davos's wife. The adorable old woman took the next hour to educate and inform her of all the subtleties that a woman must know  before their relationship became more...carnal.

 

When Daenerys had planned to escape before her marriage, Ser Davos was the first with whom she had confided. Of course, the idea had quickly reached the ears of her mother, Rhaella, who, to Dany’s utter disbelief,  helped her in turn. All of this ... under the silent gaze of Rhaegar.

 

Her brother had known for a while that she was planning to abandon Quentyn before the wedding and run away to find her love. Of course she had changed her plans, but the idea of publicizing her refusal had come from her mother. In clearly proclaiming her refusal to marry Quentyn before the Great Septon himself, Daenerys had made sure that no member of the Faith would marry her.  _ The humiliation of the Dornish prince was a nice bonus. _

 

Daenerys drove those sour times out of her mind,  sincerely hoping that she would never see the  _ toad _ again. Her brother had been very clear that she and Jae must return only after the exile of her beloved ended and not before. She would have preferred to take Jaehaerys with her and return home and  start a family. And that after so many years spent fighting, her love would find peace. Unfortunately, politics and appearances had to be preserved. But at least, from now on, they would both be together.  _ As should have always been the case. _

 

Daenerys and his companions roamed the streets of Azantyr Egros. The streets seemed breathtakingly clean when you were used to King's Landing.

 

The biggest difference was not the cleanliness of the city, but the bewildering number of armed soldiers. Sitting at tables, drinking mugs, or watching spectacle, mercenary men and women were omnipresent.

 

As they climbed to the upper town, the streets became even wider, The small brick houses had given way to town mansions. The closer they got to the Citadel of the larger Hegemon, the buildings became more elegant, rich and adorned. Various flags fluttered in the winds as full-fledged men in uniform patrolled the buildings.

 

Daenerys and her party had arrived at the Place des Epee and Daenerys’ eyes were seeking the standard of the Black Company. As luck would have it, Ghost saved them the trouble of having to ask directions to Jae. The trusty Direwolf had taken the smell of his companion. and he hastened to run to an unknown destination, knocking over a poor sentry as he galloped towards his destination. 

 

She gave an apologetic smile to the poor man before turning to her fellow travelers. “Let's follow Ghost.”

 

The intelligent wolf had not obviously forgotten them, more than once Ghost stopped to wait for them, although Daenerys could swear that the ferocious animal was becoming less and less patient. Daenerys’ eyes frantically searched for any indication she was near Jae. Her heart was beating louder and louder within her chest and her hand became moist in anticipation.

 

Finally they arrived in front of a fortified manor overlooking the bay. The portal was wide open, without waiting for his companions, Daenerys followed Ghost. Very quickly she was intercepted by a young man followed by three other men. Everything about this man reminded her of the North.

 

The man widened his eyes in disbelief when he saw the princess and the wolf. He hastened to kneel before her. His companions looked at each other uncertainly before following the example of their leaders.

 

“Greetings, Princess Daenerys”, respectfully saluted the young man.

 

“Salutations, Ser. My apologies, the long journey has abstracted my senses and I cannot seem to recall your name.”

 

“Asher Forrester”, replied the Northerners.

 

Before she could ask the young Forrester to guide her to Jae, Ghost uttered a low groan that made the four men tremble. Ghost sneaked into the mansion.

 

“I apologize for Ghost, he can not wait to see Jaehaerys again”,  _ Just as I, _ she thought. Daenerys followed the wolf, leaving behind the four soldiers in the yard.

 

Daenerys completely ignored the decorations of the manor, following Ghost through the hallways, up a flight of stairs, and then let Ghost open a door for himself.

 

“Gh …”

 

All that Jae was going to say was stopped as soon as the huge wolf jumped on him. The adorable wolf was ecstatic to see his  _ friend _ again, and Daenerys could not help but smile as Jae took the wolf in his arms, burying his face in his fluffy coat.

 

Daenerys advanced into the room, her gaze totally focused on the love of her life. Finally Jae looked up and their eyes met. Jae left Ghost, who sat on his hind legs watching the long awaited reunion of his ruby eyes..

 

Daenerys could read in his beautiful eyes, disbelief, hope, worry and love. She wanted to say something, anything at all, but her throat was dry and her tongue was not moving. All she could do was gaze at the man she loved with all her heart. Dany's vision became murky as tears beaded in the corners of her amethyst eyes. Her Jae took a step forward, beckoning her in his deep voice:

 

“Dany…”

 

Jae's voice pulled Daenerys out of her languor. She threw herself in Jae’s arms. His lips immediately sought that of his beloved and she kissed him until she lost her senses. Daenerys hoped to make her Jae feel how much she loved him, and how immensely she had missed him.

 

With the same desperation Jae embraced Daenerys, his arms holding her in a strong embrace. For the young princess it was as if she finally found a part of herself that she knew was lost. Something essential, something that only made her life complete.

 

The couple separated, both breathless. Daenerys put her hand on Jae's cheek. Her love had changed so much in his last three years. Daenerys's fingertips followed the scar that adorned his face. The one near his eye, another on the cheek and the last at the corner of his mouth.

 

The features of his face had become harder, where previously Jon had Rhaegar's sweet features, today he had the face of a northern warrior. But his eyes, his eyes were the same as always when he looked at her; dark opal and looking at her with the magnificent mixture of love, admiration and  _ lust _ .

 

“Daenerys ... I ... how? Your marriage?” Jae's eyes darkened like a winter’s storm at the mention of the wedding.

 

_ Oh my poor love, how you must have been hurt by Rhaegar's letter! _

 

Daenerys kissed Jae's lips. “I love you Jaehaerys, there's only one man who will marry me and I'm in his arms,”Daenerys told him, kissing him again.

 

Daenerys's words made Jae smile. As always, Daenerys' heart missed a beat, Jae's smiles were as rare and precious as diamonds.

 

“I have so much to tell you,” whispered Daenerys, burying her face in Jae's neck.

  
  
  


Daenerys and Jaehaerys chatted until late in the night. Exchanging in turn the events that had happened to them. Rhaegar's explanations had angered Jae. Unlike Jae, she  had the entire yoyageat sea to think about it. Several kisses and sweet words were enough to calm the fury that was boiling in the exiled prince. Both of them then moved to the terrace overlooking the little garden of the manor.

 

Daenerys had taken her place on Jae's lap, the arms of the young man both intertwined. Daenerys was enjoying time as never before. Daenerys kissed Jae in the back of his neck, looking up to see Jae smiling, his eyes closed. The prince’s hand went back from her hip to the curve of her buttocks which did not fail to make Daenerys smile.

 

_ Can you feel it, my love? My desire for you? Daenerys thought. _

 

Daenerys continued to kiss Jae's neck, while gently undoing the laces of his shirt. Jae meanwhile slipped his hand under her dress. A warm welcome blossomed between her thighs. The touch was as soft as silk but at the same time burning like the Fourteen Flames.

 

Daenerys moved her mouth to Jae's chest. The princess's hands finally finding the folds of the black linen shirt. Daenerys stopped kissing him for taking off his shirt revealing to her eyes the chiseled chest of her lover. Despite the greenish-yellow spots and scars, she could not help but find him beautiful.

  
  


Jae's hand reached her silk panties and Daenerys spread her thighs slightly, almost immediately she could feel the palm of his hand against her thighs. Jae started slowly going back and forth, caressing both the sensitive skin of her thighs and her femininity.

 

The princess closed her eyes, her hips following the slow back and forth which the palm of her lover lavished on her. It was a slow torture, Jae loved it ... and she too.

 

Daenerys leaned toward her lover's bare chest. Two could play this game. She kissed Jae gently on the lips, but before they deepen the kiss, she retreated to kiss her neck. Her lover uttered a plaintive moan that made her smile. Then she attacked one of Jae's weak points.

 

Dany used her tongue, savoring the taste of her lover's skin. She finally stopped on his left nipple. Gently she blew and licked. As always, she felt her lovers thrill under her caresses and then moved to his other nipple offering him the same tender attention. Below, her beloved gave a groan of pleasure.

 

The stormy eyes of her nephew reopened. They were darkened by desire to the point that they looked like two obsidian gleams and an almost painful heat developed in his crotch.

 

Jae then lifted her off his lap, onto the table Without waiting, he attacks her lips. Daenerys bit his lips slightly, just enough to make him moan. Gently, Jae slid the lace straps of her dress, revealing her chest. The fresh wind from the bay hardened her pink nipples.

 

"Do you like that you see Jae? Daenerys asked in a voice made hoarse by desire.

 

Her lover, just nodded before starting to attack her breasts. While taking care of her breasts, Jae's hands slipped under her silk dress. Reassembling slowly this one. Each movement was a soft caress like silk. Very quickly, her beautiful dress found herself on her stomach again.

 

Her belly became cold with anticipation. How many times in the last three years she had imagined  _ this _ while touching herself down there? Daenery licked her lips, watching her nephew as he knelt between her legs.

 

Her lover, began kissing her knee first, his divine mouth bifurcated, kissing the ivory skin of her thighs. His lips made her mad, impatience won her. But she knew that a complaint from her would not translate to seeing her pleasure delay. Daenerys bit her lip as finally Jon reached for her panties.

 

"So wet for me," hissed Jon. His hot breath on her femininity, made her shiver as she tried to hold a groan of pleasure.

 

She would have liked to answer him. The tease, the heat. But the only sound that left her mouth was a strangled moan, when Jae put his mouth on her core. Through her silk lingerie, he began to suck. It was divine.

 

Jae took off her panties, revealing her pink lips and the thin silver fleece that crowned them. Jae paused for a  second in contemplation admiration as much as lust shone in the abyss of his eyes.

 

"A goddess. You're a goddess, Dany ... mine,” Jaehaerys murmured, his voice taking possessive accents that filled her with love.

 

"Yes ... yes, as much as you are mine, my love."

 

The young man spread her lips as his mouth attacked his clitoris directly. Licking and sucking her sore point, the princess no longer withheld his moan of pleasure.

 

Her moan turned into a mew of pleasure when Jon's fingers penetrated her core. Two of his fingers caressing her insides in a back and forth rhythm. Daenerys could feel the pleasure overwhelming her as she came. Panting, she took hold of his elbow and looked at her man.

 

Jae still standing between her thighs. The lower part of his face gleamed under the moonlight, soaked by Daenerys' juices.

 

The vision, revived his excitement. She wanted her lover in her now.

 

"Take me, my love" It was as much an order as a supplication. Her need to feel it buried in her only growing as the seconds passed.

 

Jae nodded, his eyes went hungry, which only increased Daenerys's excitement.

 

Her nephew put her strong arms under her hips and lifted her up. Daenerys gave a cry of surprise while clinging to his neck. Jaehaerys' eyes, while still hungry, had an amused glow that danced. Daenerys shook his head with a smile before kissing him. In just a few steps, Daenerys found himself in front of Jae's bed.

 

_ No, their bed from now. _

 

Jae lowered her on the tiled floor and turned her over. Daenerys did not allow him, however. Gently she pushed back her soulmate as she dropped her dress to the floor. She untied her hair and let them fall  around her shoulders. She knew how much Jae liked when her hair was free. Her lover took a step forward, but with a wave of her hand she stopped him.

 

Daenerys lay down on the bed, with her elbows she stepped back, without taking her eyes off Jae as he stepped out of his last clothes. Naked as the day of his birth, he was a divine vision. Daenerys's amethyst eyes rested on his crotch, his erection hard as steel ready for her. Her love joined her on the bed. Inviting, she spread her legs, revealing herself in all her glory to her beloved.

 

Jae laid down on her. Dany wrapped her arms around him, savoring him. It was not long before her love penetrated her. The gesture was almost liberating.  _ Finally, finally they were one. _

 

Both remained for a moment without moving, taking full advantage of the feeling of being united at last. The two lovers kissed each other. It was a kiss filled with pure love. Slow and sweet, loaded with desire and pleasure. When they broke up, it was Jae who spoke.

 

"I love you, Dany. More than anything, "he said hoarsely.

 

The statement fill the heart of Daenerys with love.

 

"I love you too, Jae," returned Daenerys, kissing him.

  
  


When their kiss ended, Jae buried his face in her neck. Her beloved began his comings and goings. It was slow at first, but soon, his pace increased. Daenerys gasped, moaning his name as she buried her fingers in the back of her love.

 

Daenerys squeezed her legs, imprisoning her lover in a straitjacket he would never want to leave.

 

"Dany ... oh Dany ... my love," Jae whimpered in her ear.

 

"Jae,  _ my Jae, _ my beloved," she returned with the same devotion and love.

 

For the two lovers, it was the seven heavens. Neither Jae nor Daenerys could tell how long they made love. But Daenerys could feel how her lover was stretching. Just as she could feel her own pleasure coming. Daenerys squeezed his legs even harder. She was determined to have Jae's seed in her.

 

"Inside me Jae, come inside me, please," she asked, she pleaded.

 

When her lover came, Daenerys could feel his semen pouring into her even as her own pleasure took her.

 

Both found themselves panting, their skins covered with sweat. Jae dropped to the side, and lay on the side, a move that Daenerys copying to find herself face to face with him. Jae's arm came to take her hip, pulling her until their legs were entangled and Daenerys's head snuggled into Jae's chest.

 

"I'm finally home," Jae murmured softly.

 

Daenerys could only agree with him. She lifted her head to look him in the eyes.

 

"Yes, we are finally home ...  _ together _ ".

**Author's Note:**

> Please, read and comment, it's always motivating!


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